


I Am No Puppet

by SaltySadness



Series: The Author's Story [2]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Death of the Author, Fear, Fear tw, Flashbacks, Gore warning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Paranoia, Self-Harm, Self-Inflicted Injury, Suicide Attempt, When and Why Author ripped his eyes out, gore tw, nervous breakdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29408502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltySadness/pseuds/SaltySadness
Summary: Bim pokes his nose in someone's business and causes them to remember something that wasn't pretty.
Series: The Author's Story [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160408
Kudos: 5





	I Am No Puppet

"Must Bim Trimmer burst in like this?" Host groaned at the intrusion. He had been enjoying himself in his library, fiddling with his radio station, when the show host threw open the doors and marched up to him. They were all still dealing with the aftermath of Dark's episode, so what Bim could want at this exact moment was unknown to him. 

"Does the library have any books on old actors who lived in this town? Or disappearances of people in the 1920s? Or this house?" 

Host paused, turning to Bim. "Why does he wish to know about such obscure topics? He would suspect Bim to find those stories rather boring." 

"I'm... researching someone. Do you happen to know anything about a Mark Iplier? An actor who lived here?" 

Host stiffened immediately. "That name is forbidden in this manor. Bim does not need to find old ghosts that are no longer of this world." 

"What? Cmon, there is a mystery of sorts here. You love mysteries! Why don't you help me?" 

"The Host will do no such thing. Get out, Bim. He is digging into something that he will regret." 

"What is wrong with you? I thought you'd- wait a moment, you're paling. You only do that when something is freaking you out. You _know_ something, don't you?!" 

"What the Host knows and what he doesn't know has no relevance with his warning. Any mention of that name outside of this room will be met with swift punishment, and not from me. Get out of the Host's library!" 

Bim began to back up as Host rose to his feet, anger in his features. The younger ego began to protest, "You know something! I deserve to know what the hell is going on around here! What are the purposes of the egos? Why do you and Dark keep everything so hush-hush?! What is the goal of all of this?!" 

Host was forcing Bim to back up faster and faster, Bim practically feeling the buzzing anger coming off of Host. There was blood running down his cheeks, a sign of distress, and a bat in his hand. 

"Does it have to do with you?! Your eyes?! Why can't we know?! What is hiding that might do something if I keep looking?!" 

With that, the Host's speed doubled. He was driving Bim out of the maze of the library with every step. Panic bloomed on Bim's face as he spoke, realizing he brought up something Host didn't like one bit. However, he kept pushing. 

"Did you or Dark do something?! You can't hide it all forever! Someone will figure you out and tell the rest of us!" 

With that, Bim was unceremoniously shoved from the library, doors snapping shut behind him and locking. He let out a small growl and hurried off, leaving the heaving, bloody Host on the other side of the door. He slowly dropped the bat and let his shaky hands run through his hair, smearing blood. Host turned and made his way back to his desk, sitting down and propping his head up with his hands as he finally allowed himself to live through the memory.  
__________________ 

Author didn't know what was going on. He was circling in his cabin, eyes wildly searching for it. Ever since he was created, Author had felt this thing in the back of his head, telling him what to do. At first, he assumed it was a normal thing, his conscience. But then it started speaking to him as if it wasn't really him. As if it was another person viewing his actions. But how could they? 

So he listened to the voice. It told him who was pointless, who didn't deserve to be there. He wouldn't deny he felt the same looking at those weaker egos, and he wouldn't say he disliked hurting them. He was never forced into anything. No, it was all his free choice. He never felt remorse or guilt for his actions. It all went downhill when he did begin to feel bad. 

The voice became more commanding, angrier at every denial the Author gave it. Author began to question the thing, shouting out loud at it. He scared Iplier into literally running to the manor to get help when he wouldn't stop talking to this imaginary person. Author demanded to know who it was, how it knew his every move, and what it wanted from him. 

That was when the chilling answers arrived. 

"Oh, my dear little writer. I am who they call the Actor. My real name is Mark, though. It's a shame, you were supposed to write my perfect story. You were the best choice, but then you had to go and become infatuated with my dear little villain." 

"...I don't understand." 

"Of course it doesn't. Not to you, anyways. You weren't made to understand it all. You were made to write my story. This is so sad, such a shame. Such a waste." 

Author felt the sting of dread fill him, "Waste?" 

"Yes, I can't use you anymore. Now that you won't listen to me and destroy Dark's world from the inside out. I will miss your fun little shows, the way you made his favorite egos cry out in pain." 

"Where are you? Are you following me in the shadows?!" 

"No, no. Of course not! That would be silly, Dark would have sensed me!" 

"Then how can you see me, damn it?! What are you going to do to me?!" 

"Oh, you adorable puppet. _I'm_ not going to do anything to you. You've already destroyed yourself." 

"Shut the fuck up! I'll give you a 'show' in person if you'll just tell me where you fucking are!" 

"...May I ask, what color are your eyes?" 

Everything seemed to stop with that, Author unable to respond as he gently touched his face. 

"You figure it out?" 

"How-how-" 

"So it is up to you what to do next. You know you have no allies except for me. Will you finally comply? Or shall I leave you to be alone forever, to suffer at Dark's hands for your crimes?" 

Author stood silently. Slowly, his hands started moving up to his face. He didn't even seem to be aware it was happening. They went straight up towards his eyes, and then his nails began digging in around them.

"What- what the hell are you doing, puppet?" 

"I am nobody's puppet." 

"You won't survive this, you know. Nobody will save you." 

"Maybe not. Maybe not _me_." 

The world fell silent for the Author. 

And then he _**screamed**_.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a very odd theory that Author and Actor are connected through Author's eyes, which is why he rips them out to stop Actor from using him. I might explain later on.


End file.
